Devils Will Cry Well, Some
by Princess Isa
Summary: Asia Aquarius de Venticus was a regular teenager until the day of her eighteenth birthday. She felt like something bad was going to happen. Later that night, a Hell Pride had attacked her triggering something in her that she had never experienced. DanteXO


**A/N: This is virtually my first fanfic that I did here on _._ Lol... anyways, I hope you'll like this fic. I didn't really play this game until today (June 6, 2008 xD). Sad isn't it? Lol anyways, I hope I'll get Dante's and Virgil's personalities right 3 Enjoy **

**Devils Will Cry. Well, Some.**

It was my eighteenth birthday, but something didn't feel right about it; like something evil was going to suddenly ruin my day. And I wasn't talking about the petty evils of theivery. It was more like the evil that can distroy the world kind of evil, you know what I mean? Anyway, it was my sixteenth birthday and I couldn't sit still or enjoy my huge party with all my friends despite my odd hair color of pure black blending into shades of purple, blue, green, and aqua. Even I doubt I was born with this hair color that my mom was insane enough to dye it while I was asleep. I was a heavy sleeper too.

"Aquari! Aquarius! Heeeey...! You there, Asia Aquarius De Venticus??" my friend, Celine, yelled and waved her hand in my dazed face. And yes that is my name; Asia Aquarius. My father liked that name as my mother had told me. I had never met my father.

I winced at Celine's loud voice. "Celine! I can hear just fine! I'm just thinking. Seriously, all you need to do if flick my on my forehead and I'll be fine." She knew I hated being flicked in the forehead, but it was the only way to take me out of my odd trances.

"Aqua, this is your **debut** birthday party! You should be celabrating! **Not** being a killjoy, Aqua." Celine ranted, pacing infront of her friend. Aquarius fell into another trance, a blank expression on her face.

"Aqua! Are you listening?" Celine yelled at me. I cringed then stood, slightly gasping.

"Sorry.. I need to go to the bathroom..." I excused myself, beating myself up for that pathetic excuse. Making my way to the bathroom, I pushed myself through the many crowds of people, up the stairs and into the bathroom.

I studied myself in the mirror, seeing no horns protruding from my forehead. No sharp, long canines. I felt my forehead; my hands felt clammy and cold but that's just me. I sighed and splashed my face with some cold water. Sometimes I'm glad not to be wearing make up. I always followed my hunches about things.

I exited the bathroom and inserted myself in the party again, trying to enjoy it. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen soon.

Hours later, the party was well over with my mother sleeping in her bed in a drunken state. Yes, we had booze at my party. My mother reccomended it. Very immature of her, right? Anyway, I was getting ready for bed, but cautious nonetheless.

Suddenly, I heard a demonic growl behind me. I panicked and grabbed the nearest melee-like weapon on my bathroom counter; a hairbrush. The creature was a grim reaper-like monster, a Hell Pride as I guessed as it held itself proudly, showing off its sharp, yellow teeth. I assulted the monster with my hairbrush; screeching, "YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA!" repeatedly, hitting it on the head. The reaper shrieked, lifting its sythe then bringing it down with inhuman strength. I soon growled deeply, threatening it in some weird way. The reaper's sythe cut into my shoulder, blood spattering everywhere.

I growled even more menacing at it, throwing my hairbrush into my room. I yanked the sythe out of it's grip and pulled it out of my shoulder, growling and snarling. The reaper slowly backed away, disappearing through the wall. I winced from my wound. Something told me to take the sythe from my shoulder, so I did. Once I took it out, the wound healed completely and the sythe turned to black and silver sand, sinking into the floor as if it wasn't a solid matter. Like ectoplasm is more like the word to describe it.

Looking around, I almost gagged. There was blood **all over** the place. "Well... ain't this going to be just **great**?" I mumbled to myself, grabbing a rag, placing it under some cold water and started to scrub the blood off of every single nook and cranny of the bathroom. After about an hour or two, I threw the rag in the tub which I filled with cold water in the past five minutes. The water turned orange as the water purified the white rag of my own blood. I sighed and popped my neck and back while walking to my room. Like I said, my hunches are what I **always** followed. I always have and will live on my instincts. Then I had this horrible dream...

_Black and red skies floated above the earth. Or what was left of it. Rubble and dust was scattered all over the dead ground. Even the air seemed dead. Unmoving and stale. I felt cold even though there were many blazing infernos were around me. I pushed back my hair, feeling something hard on my forehead. It was long and rough like a ram's horn. Then I felt blood trickle down my lip; something cut me I just don't know what. I felt my lips, feeling elongated canines.What **was** I? Unexpectedly, the wind blew from behind me. I could smell rotting flesh behind me. Regretfully and hesitantly, I turned. Screaming, I saw the dead bodies of my friends and family. Even my **mother**. My _**mother**_ for god's sake!_

"_Who would do this?" I asked myself._

_I heard gravel shift behind me, so I spun around. "You would, my daughter. You have created the haven of demons, my dearest Aquarius."_

_Did he call me 'his daughter'? This man was my father? Why is he showing up now even though this is a vision? I thought, sniffling._

"_Father... why? Why would I do this?" I was crying. _

_I looked at my father carefully, he had the same basic features of my more dominant physical looks. He had the same blending hair except the colors were much lighter and where the black was supposed to be for me, it was platinum blond. He looked nothing like an old man either. More like a man in his mid-twenties. Mother had always told me that father was older that her. It looked like the other way around. Father's eyes were the same as well; a shocking electric blue. He had great sable-scaled wings protruding from his back._

_My father embraced me, his large dragon-like wings covering me from the light. Darkness was always my nepenthean._

"_Aquarius, you were--"_

I woke with a start, the alarm clock screaming something in static. The next morning, I did my usual; brush my teeth, take a shower, all that kinds of stuff. I dressed in a tee shirt and some men's gym shorts as I leafed through the phone book. I looked under extermination for the service I was looking for.

_Bugs... bugs... bugs... _ I thought, as I read each and every single large add until I saw a small one that said, "Devil May Cry: Demon and Devil Extermination Services. Owned by Dante Sparda, if you need any services, call, 377-0119."

"Ah hah! There we go. In the ghetto area, hmm? I'll drive there." I said to myself, going back upstairs to change into my good clothes.

I entered my room and searched through my drawers, seeing none of my favorite shirts. I groaned and picked out the least revealing of the rest of my unused tops-wardrobe. I dressed into this tight black shirt with a black leather mid drift with straps hanging off. It had a few breastpockets and was long-sleeved with similar straps that hung off the end of the shirt. It had metal rings hanging off the ends of the loose straps. I put on my red tripp plaid pocket skirt that complimented my top nicely.

I grabbed my keys to my Pirus Toyota and my purse and walked out the door.

"Dante Sparda, here I come." I muttered, ducking into my hybrid car.

**A/N: Aarrrg! This seems so short! Why does it seem so short? TTTT anyway, since I haven't done a story plot that has parts to it, I'm considered a noob 3 If you think there's anything wrong with this first one or the following ones, leave a review with some critizism in it. I'd appreciate that very much and will help a lot to my writing style. And no Niki, I'm not a good writer. Well, not as good as you.**

** Envi X**


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